The next day Alex’s parents started packing up, getting ready to leave early the day after. Alex went for a surf early in the morning, and although he didn’t want to admit it, it made him feel better. He ignored another text from Ricardo and one from Fez, feeling that if he were to see them he would probably have to apologize for New Year’s Eve. He didn’t want to do that yet, and he also didn’t want any sympathy. Yeah, so Jill wasn’t interested after all. He was an idiot.
Whatever.
After a shower and an abandoned attempt at starting to pack, he lay on his bed with his headphones on again, staring at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and let the music wash over him. It was heavy rock. Old stuff that felt like a brain massage.
He sensed someone in his room and opened his eyes. The door was open and there was Anna, Jill standing beside her looking very uncomfortable, holding his sweatshirt. He ripped off the headphones and stood up.
“Company!” Anna yelled. “You clearly did not hear my knock!”
“Sorry,” said Alex. Now that she was there in his room his hard defiance dissolved. He felt small and sad. For the first time since he had started to get to know her, he had no ulterior motive. It was over, he had stuffed up, but she was here.
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” said Anna, shutting the door behind her.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi. Sorry.” Jill stood just inside the door. “I figured you’d ignore a text or a call.”
“Probably. Here, sit down.” He motioned for her to sit on a chair.
He was glad he had at least picked up his dirty clothes.
“Do you mind that I’m here?”
“No. But I don’t know why you’re here.”
“To return this,” she said, putting the sweatshirt on the desk behind her. “And because we need to talk before you go home.”
“Do we?”
“Yes. I wanted to say I’m sorry that things ended up this way.
With all this misunderstanding.”
“You don’t need to apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’m not apologising,” she said. “I know I didn’t lead you on. I’m just sorry you got hurt.”
“Then I guess I’m the one who should apologise.” He knew it was true but it was hard to admit.
“Yes, you should.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I was an idiot. I was mad. I was so sure. I don’t know why but I really thought you must have changed your mind. It’s hard to accept I was wrong.”
“Do you accept it now?”
“Yes. It sucks but hey. I believe you now.”
She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked down at her lap. “I saw you afterwards. With Sam.”
Alex’s heart sank. He felt bad enough about that already, but knowing she knew made him feel like a real bottom feeder. “I wish you hadn’t. I regret that. A lot.”
She gave a half-hearted laugh. “I was wondering how it got to this, Alex. I think I know but it won’t be easy to hear.”
“Try me.”
“Okay. I told you that I wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship but you didn't take me seriously. There are so many great things about you, Alex, but ... I think you have been really arrogant.”
Alex was too surprised to feel defensive. He had never heard anything like a criticism come out of her mouth, not ever. It took him a second or two to be sure that she had actually said it. Was this really Jill? Calling him arrogant?
“You think?”
“Yes.” Jill took a deep breath. “That’s why you made those assumptions. Why you ignored what I said. You think you’re amazing. That I couldn’t possibly not want to hook up with you. When you realised again that I didn’t want that, you stormed off like a little kid having a tantrum.”
“Wow. That’s pretty harsh, Jill. Did you come here just to tell me that?”
She looked him straight in the eyes. “No. I came because I didn’t want that … scene on the beach to be the last time we saw each other.”
He softened. He didn’t want that either. “You’re right,” he said. “I didn’t listen to you.”
“No. You didn’t.”
“I assumed. But not only because I’m full of myself or whatever you’re saying, okay? I’ve never been friends with anyone like I am with you. When we hang out together, I feel that you know me, that you understand me. That I can say anything.”
“And you based your assumption on what you felt. Not on what I was saying to you.”
“Yes. And it felt to me that our relationship couldn’t be just friendship. It felt like much more.”
“I didn’t feel that, Alex. I like you a lot, I really do, just not in that way.”
“Is that why our friendship couldn’t go deeper, then?” he asked. “Because I think too much of myself?”
“No, Alex,” said Jill. “It couldn’t go deeper because if I get married one day I will marry a Christian guy, so we can live as Christians together, and I don’t want a relationship with anyone I don’t think I can marry. I told you this before. It is deeply important to me. But I also need to say this – everyone is vain to some degree. I am too. We all think we are better than we are. I probably need to admit to myself that your attention stroked my ego a bit.” “You don’t have an ego,” he said.
“Of course I do,” said Jill. “Everyone is self-centred. That’s what the Bible says. That’s why we need God.”
He looked at her. There was silence for a while. “You know how I feel about that stuff,” he said.
“I do. And you’re wrong. And even when you have gone I will pray that you will realise that one day.”
“You’ll pray for me,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to pray for me. I want you … to love me.” He kept his head down.
He didn’t trust himself to meet her eyes and not embarrass himself.
When she spoke again he could hear the tears in her voice. “I’m so sorry, Alex.”
He sat with his head down until his composure returned. Then he looked up. “I can admit I’m vain. I can do that, I suppose. But you’re not. You’re … what’s the opposite of vain? Humble?”
She shrugged. “I’m not perfect, Alex. I’m just as selfish as anyone else.”
“No, that’s it. You’re humble. Maybe that’s what I like about you. Opposites attract and all that, right?”
She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “No Alex, that’s not it. I suppose I need to admit that I haven’t been friends with you like I am with the other guys. I have loved being your friend, really. You’re … amazing, and maybe I can’t blame you for being vain. But friendship is as far as it can go.”
“I know,” he said. “And I am sorry.”
“I know you are.” She stood up. “I guess it’s time to go.” “I’m going to miss you,” he said.
“I’ll miss you too.”
“Will you tell the guys I’m sorry about storming off like that?” She nodded.
“And tell Simon I said good bye?”
“I will.”
“I’ll walk you down.”
He ended up walking her all the way home. They walked side by side, in silence, both feeling that there was really nothing more to say. By the time they got to Jill’s house they both felt better, but it was still hard to say good bye. There was a brief, awkward hug, a few short words, and Alex walked away, leaving Jill at the garden gate. He was going to turn and wave at the end of the road, but he found he couldn’t. Now that he was walking away it was better to leave it all behind. For good.